


Selfless Love

by MidnightsVioletHaze



Category: Glee
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Glee Season Two, Male-Female Friendship, Not Canon Compliant, One-Sided Attraction, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:52:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1248286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightsVioletHaze/pseuds/MidnightsVioletHaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a lot of them, loving Kurt Hummel was the most selfless thing they had ever done.</p><p>Q: How do you resist the perfect guy?<br/>A: You don't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mercedes Jones (Never Been Kissed)

It was hard sometimes, helping Tina or Quinn get ready for a date, hearing them giggle and gush in excitement, so happy and bubbly. Now it hadn’t been easy, but Mercedes had come to terms with her weight a long time ago. It had taken a lot of angsting, but she’d learned to love her body…but it’s difficult to reassure herself that she’s at all appealing when no one else seems to think so.

More specifically: boys.

At first it was easy to believe that her status as a ‘gleek’ was the reason she never seemed to arouse much male interest, but as every other girl in Glee got paired off – most with hot football players at that – she began to think that there was something wrong with her.She felt bad thinking it, but if even Tina with her goth style and obsession with death and Rachel with her… _everything_ could land boyfriends, why couldn't she? The only real, concrete difference she could see was the weight.

She was _fat_ and boys didn't like _fat girls_.

And every time these thoughts entered her head, they threatened to pull her into a funk worse than that of Vocal-Adrenaline-induced variety – much like they were now as she stewed alone in the choir room, a Tupperware container full of tater-tots in her hands. What did it matter if she gorged herself? It’s not like getting even _fatter_ would make a difference.

“Mercedes!”

She looked up to see the flailing, colourful blur that was her best friend standing in the doorway of the choir room.

“Oh my god, you have to come quick!” Kurt announced breathlessly, cheeks pinked with excitement, “There’s a sale at the mall and I saw this dress that just screamed your name! Hurry up and grab your stuff; fashion waits for no one…also I saw several ladies eyeing that dress and I refuse to let such an exquisite piece be wasted on one of those tacky bitches when it was made for you.”

Mercedes laughed. “Whatever you say, Kurt.”

Kurt faked an affronted look. “Mercedes, don’t question me when it comes to fashion. Just see, you’ll be thanking me when you look gorgeous, or more gorgeous than usual – love that top by the way.”

Mercedes couldn't help but smile, bad mood already evaporating. Kurt was the one boy that had chosen her, not Tina, not Rachel, not even Quinn or any other Cheerio. Any girl would kill for a gay best friend with Kurt’s sense of fashion as well as his credit card, but instead of picking a stick-skinny, model-like girl, Kurt had chosen _her_. And even as he befriended the Cheerios on the squad and became closer with Tina and Rachel, it was still her he came to, ran to, when there was a sale. He could have his own life-sized Barbie to play dress-up with in Quinn or Brittany, but, for whatever reason, he seemed to prefer her.

“Are you coming?” he huffed, a bit impatiently.

She got up and tossed the tots in the garbage can by the door and let Kurt wind his arm with hers, looking up into his clear, steady gaze.

When those eyes – those sometimes teary, sometimes icy, but always, _always_ , honest eyes – met her own straight on as the owner told her she was gorgeous, fabulous, _beautiful_ …Mercedes couldn’t help but believe them, _him_.

So, she may not have completely gotten over her crush on him but…

Kurt made her feel _beautiful_ –

“Come on, white boy; let’s go get our shop on.”

– and she couldn’t help but love him for it.


	2. Tina Cohen-Chang (Theatricality)

Squeezing her eyes shut tightly against the tears that threatened to overflow, Tina speed-walked down the Abrams driveway already pulling out her cellphone. She was probably overreacting; it was only a one month anniversary, nothing _really_ worth celebrating, and she was behaving like one of _those_ girls: the kind that demanded presents from their boyfriends on, like, Flag Day, or something equally ridiculous. So what if Artie would rather play _World of Whatever_ than spend today with her? One month really wasn’t that big of a deal.

Even as she told herself this, Tina shakily dialed number one on her speed dial, not even feeling the small guilty sting that she usually did at the fact that her _boyfriend_ was only number three, just behind her home phone.

The ring had barely sounded once in her ear before the line picked up and she heard a breathy “This is the fabulous Kurt Hummel speaking!”

She stifled a wet-sounding giggle and tried to keep the tremble out of her voice when she replied with a, “And this is the gothic, but also fabulous, Tina Cohen-Chang calling.”

There was a beat of silence and Tina wondered if Kurt had caught the sniffle she was trying to suppress, but then he was back with an excited tone of voice reserved especially for when he was in the middle of a project.

“Tina – _perfect_ timing! I’m just putting the finishing touches my Gaga-inspired masterpiece of an outfit and I've been on the phone with the other Glee girls discussing theirs, since we both know there’s no way I’m letting any of you – except, maybe, _Rachel_ – show up in something horrendous. I thought it would be a good idea to base our outfits off our personalities. Mine is space alien meets Victorian era, summing up my love for layers and my desire to leave Ohio and return to my home planet: New York. Also, three words: _Ten. Inch. Heels_.”

Tina laughed again, both at his words and his enthusiasm. Kurt was always making her laugh, which was something she hadn’t appreciated at first because the kind of uncontrollable laughter he evoked with his witty one-liners and clever phrasing made shy girls like her self-conscious. She imagined him in his basement room, glitter and sequins strewn around. She wished she was there with him, able to see him get worked up and truly _happy_ , in person. Kurt wasn’t usually this happy; he was usually all sharp edges and cold eyes, a thick wall he built between himself and the rest of the world, protection: sad, but necessary in this town. She was one of the few people that got to see past that wall – only a little, since Kurt never bared himself completely – and she was glad because it was kind of beautiful.

“What about me?” she asked, “Something black and lacey?”

Of course, she didn’t know why she bothered asking. She was ‘the weird, dark, Goth girl’ to everyone, even her friends and even her boyfriend. The first thing Artie had said when he saw her room was, “Wow, I was expecting a hell of a lot more black, yo.” She loved Artie a lot, maybe that was why it always hurt so much when he did or said things like that.

“Oh, no!” Kurt said. There was a pause and some shuffling in the background. “That’s definitely more suited to Santana’s vixen personality. I was thinking…champagne bubbles.”

Tina blinked. “Bubbles?”

“You know – you’re bubbly,” Kurt said in his ‘why-are-you-so-slow-on-the-uptake’ drawl without the slightest hint of irony.

And, okay, Tina had warned Mercedes not to fall for Kurt because he was very clearly ‘lady fabulous’, but it was kind of like with Artie, except the complete opposite. When Kurt did or said things like that, it was impossible not to feel a little fluttering in her heart.

Cheeks embarrassingly warm, Tina muttered an uninspired “O-Oh” in reply, not having to fake the stutter this time.

This right here was the reason Kurt was number one on her speed dial and the first person she called when something went wrong: he saw her, the real her which was something most people didn't bother doing. Kurt saw things in her that even she didn't. She wasn't bubbly. Dark, weird, shy, quiet, Gothic, death-obsessed and any other adjective along those lines, maybe, but definitely not _bubbly_. Bubbly girls were the kind of girls that were the center of attention, not the kind that stayed in the corner and pushed people away with a fake stutter. But the way Kurt said it, Tina thought that maybe she _wanted_ to be a bubbly girl; maybe she _could_ be bubbly girl. So even though she was a little skeptical, she ended up in a champagne bubble dress two days later and she loved it – as she made sure to tell Kurt.

She and Artie made up – not that he had known that they were in a ‘fight’ in the first place – and she continued to put up with his misogynistic and neglectful behavior because he was sweet at times and she really did believe her loved her and she loved him back.

Still, Artie was no Kurt Hummel, but Tina was starting to suspect that no boy would ever treat her as well as Kurt did. Boys like Kurt Hummel…they kind of ruined you for everyone else…so it really wasn’t Tina’s fault that she was a little bit in love with him.


	3. Interlude Part I - Stacy Evans (Rumours)

“Can,” Stacy yawned, “Can you sing it again? Please Kurtie?” She was sure to keep quiet because Stevie was asleep already and he got really cranky if you woke him up.

“Kurt probably needs to leave, Stace,” said Sam.

Stacy tried to pout at him through bleary eyes, but the motel room was dark and she could only just see his weird blond hair glowing in the dim light coming from the windows.

She felt Kurt’s soft hands petting her head and settled down into the feeling, turning her pout on him easily since he was close enough that even the dark couldn’t mask his pale skin and coiffed hair.

“Sorry honey, but your brother’s right. My Dad will be mad if I’m late and then I wouldn't be able to come again!”

“Oh no!” Stacy gasped, worriedly.

“Oh yes,” Kurt said, “So no encore tonight. I’ll come by tomorrow, though, so I can sing then. Maybe this time you’ll finally sing with me? I’m sure you have a very pretty voice.”

“Kurt you don’t have to-“

Stacy cut right through her older brother, nodding fervently. “Come again tomorrow, Kurt!” she begged.

“I will,” he promised, smiling. Stacy could tell that he meant it, which made her smile too.

“Night Kurtie,” she whispered.

“Good night,” he said, moving his hand away from her hair. She grabbed it before he could pull away completely.

“Thank you, again, for the tiara,” she said earnestly.

“You’re very welcome. I have a lot of them anyway and my Dad doesn’t really like them.” He laughed. “Now good night for real,” he said, kissing her quickly on the cheek.

“G-Goodnight,” she mumbled, letting go of his hand. Blushing brightly, Stacy buried her head in her covers.

She heard Sam laughing at her, but couldn’t bring herself to get mad at him. Waiting until the door clicked behind Sam and Kurt, she poked her head out into the open and held a hand to her flushed cheek.

“When I grow up…I’m going to marry him,” she declared boldly to the empty room.

The doorknob turned and she flushed bright red in embarrassment, ducking under the safety of the covers again.


	4. Brittany S. Pierce (Laryngitis)

Brittany liked kissing. She liked kissing boys and she liked kissing girls. Brittany liked sex even more than kissing, so she didn't really mind when boys she didn't really know would pull her away at parties and make her blow them. She didn't like that a lot of times they didn't make her feel good too, but Santana said to come to her whenever they didn't and Brittany loved it when Santana made her feel good.

Brittany loved Santana. Santana had really soft skin that felt nice against Brittany’s and Santana watched Lord Tubbington for her when Brittany wanted to hide her diary in a new place. Santana also helped her find her diary again when she forgot where she hid it. Brittany didn't love how Santana would only link pinkies with her at school instead of holding hands. Brittany didn't love how Santana said that kissing in front of people was only allowed if it was to make a boy horny. Brittany didn't love how Santana was dating Puck, but wouldn't date Brittany.

Kurt confused Brittany. She could never tell if he was a boy or a girl. Santana said he was a boy, though, and that he was just capital-G gay. Santana said that made him ‘practically a girl’ anyway. Brittany didn't really understand that because you were either a boy or a girl. She asked Mercedes instead, since she was Kurt’s best friend and Mercedes got kind of mad and said that Kurt was a boy, so then Brittany wasn't confused anymore.

Then he started dressing like other boys and when he sang a song about painting houses he sounded a lot like a boy and Brittany was even less confused because he seemed a lot more like a boy now. She liked not being confused. She decided to ask him out.

Then he confused her again. He kissed her, but his kisses were more like sweet lady-kisses than like boy-kisses. He tasted like candy canes and his lips were super soft and she loved kissing him as much as Santana because his kisses made her feel warm inside and when he touched her, even if it was only to push her hand away, it made her feel even warmer. Kurt wasn't like other boys because he pushed her away and he didn't make her blow him and he made her feel good even if he didn't have sex with her and only kissed her. He even taught her about condoms and why it was important to use them after his dad mentioned the burglar alarm. His face was super red when he explained it all, but Brittany liked red so she thought it was cool. Brittany decided Kurt was way nicer than any other boy so he definitely couldn't _be_ a boy.

But Kurt couldn't be a girl either because he wasn't like Santana. He held her hand with his soft baby-hand in the hallway in front of everyone and he told all his friends they were dating. He even introduced her to his dad who kind of looked like a bear, which made her wonder if Kurt was secretly a unicorn since they were related. It made sense, since Kurt had sparkled a lot before he started looking like a boy and now he didn't sparkle anymore, so he had grown into a bear too, like his dad. Kurt made her feel special all the time. Boys never made her feel special, so he couldn't be a boy and Santana only made her feel special sometimes, so he couldn't be a girl either.

Brittany was confused again, but this time she didn't mind so much. She thought that maybe Santana was right before, like she usually was since Santana was super smart. Maybe Kurt was a boy _and_ a girl. Like hot chocolate which was hot when you ordered it at Breadstix, but could be cold as long as you called it ‘iced hot chocolate’ when the lady with the fugly hair asked. Kurt had all the good parts of a boy and all the good parts of a girl and a lot of good parts that were just Kurt. He was like that Hannah Montana song. She wondered if he would sing it for her later.

Brittany liked kissing boys and girls a lot, but she loved kissing Kurt best of all since he was a little bit of both. Brittany loved kissing Kurt. Brittany loved holding Kurt’s hand in the hallway. Brittany loved telling people Kurt was her boyfriend.

Brittany liked sex even more than kissing and she thought she would probably love sex with Kurt best of all, but he didn't want to have sex. That was okay, though, because Brittany loved Kurt even more than she loved sex. And since Santana was busy singing with Mercedes and dating Puck…sometimes Brittany thought she loved Kurt even more than she loved Santana.


	5. Quinn Fabray (Post-Funk)

“Since y’all are the guests, I’ma be nice and let you choose: Princess Diaries or Bridget Jones?” Mercedes asked, holding up the two movies side by side.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “I’m offended that you seem to think there’s any competition between the two,” he drawled.

Quinn nodded.

“While I appreciate the dry wit of the British, Julie Andrews will always win, you _know_ -”

“I’m sorry,” Quinn cut in sweetly, “But are you seriously comparing the hilarious and relatable story of a hopeless girl finding love to the oh-so realistic tale of a girl finding out she’s lucky enough to be princess?”

Kurt matched her sweet but caustic smile easily. “I am not, in fact, comparing the two because _there is no comparison_.”

More than ready to release some hormonal rage, Quinn frowned when the doorbell sounded before she could say anything in reply.

Mercedes sat up. “That’ll be the pizza,” she said, walking out of her room, but pausing in the doorway. “I need to go pay and call and check up with my parents. By the time I get back you two had better have decided on a movie, _with minimum bloodshed please and thank you_. I know you two.”

Perhaps she was imagining it, but Quinn could have sworn that the next sentence Mercedes said was uttered before Kurt had even made to open his mouth. “And don’t worry Kurt; I won’t forget that healthy popcorn stuff you brought,” she said before leaving.

The moment Mercedes had left, Quinn felt the by now familiar weight of Kurt’s steely gaze on her. He had been watching her the entire day, judging the way she interacted with his best friend.

Kurt was a lot of things, but though he didn't ramble on and on like Berry did, shy was not a part of that description. He was loud and out there and even if you didn't know him, spending five minutes in the same room with him was enough to learn a lot about his personality.

In those five minutes he would probably make a biting remark (bitchy and funny), a sly joke (witty and a little dorky), some comment about his clothes or hair (prissy and vain) and everyone around him would have a pretty decent idea of Kurt Hummel in a nutshell. In fact, Quinn had known all of those things about Kurt before she had even joined Glee. Just seeing him in the hallways and in class was enough to determine that he was all of those things and also outrageously gay.

From across Mercedes’ lavish bed, Kurt pursed his lips at her. “I suppose that just this once I can allow Queen Andrews to be forsaken – if only because Anne Hathaway’s pre-makeover look is too painful for my refined vision and Hugh Grant is irresistible in all capacities, even as a bit of a jack ass,” he said. He leaned forward and twirled his fingers around the ends of her loose hair. “However, you will have to allow me free reign over your hair for the duration of the movie to distract me from this act of betrayal against Miss Julie.”

Quinn smiled. “As long as you don’t try to yank out enough strands to give me a bald spot out of jealousy.”

Kurt scoffed loudly as he moved behind her. “Have you seen my hair? I have nothing to be jealous of.” He made a disapproving noise and used his fingers to comb through her hair. “Especially considering these atrocious split ends. Remind me to explain the do’s and don’ts of proper hair care to you afterwards.”

Holding herself stiffly at first, Quinn surprised herself by relaxing into the feeling of Kurt’s gentle, but strong hands playing with her hair. Spending time in Glee had led her to the realization that the Gleeks were pretty nice people and out of all of them, Kurt was definitely one of the one’s she liked more, but that didn't mean they were close. She wasn't even sure if Kurt returned the sentiment, or if he hated her. She wouldn't blame him if he did, but he was difficult to read. He talked to her easily enough, always including her in the other Gleek girls’ conversations. He’d compliment her clothes and give her ‘helpful suggestions’ to ‘expand her wardrobe’. It seemed too easy, the way he just accepted her as another one of his ‘girls’ after how cruel she had been to him, to _all_ of them.

Kurt Hummel was a bit of a paradox. He didn't hide who he was at all and it didn't take very long to figure out his personality, but somehow his most important qualities remained hidden from the vast majority. Quinn had known he was bitchy, funny, witty, dorky, prissy, vain and outrageously gay within five minutes of knowing him. She’d found that once she’d let go of her prejudice, it took less than five seconds to see that Kurt was also incredibly compassionate and caring, something not many people seemed to realize. He’d been watching her carefully since she’d moved in with Mercedes, wanting to make sure that she wasn't taking advantage of his best friend or treating her badly. After everything she had done, Quinn didn't really blame him. She respected him for it and was actually a bit jealous of Mercedes.

Quinn had never had a friend that cared about her like that, who accepted her so easily. She had never had a friend who would fiercely leap to her defense without a second thought, sometimes without even a first. Instead, she had Santana, who was more interested in her spot as head cheerleader than watching her back and Brittany, who was sweet, but not much help. She had Puck too, but she didn't want him. She had had Finn, but she didn't anymore. She might have Mercedes, but she didn't want to assume.

Kurt Hummel may have been bitchy and prissy, but he was also compassionate and caring, innocent and naïve and protective as hell. He was the kind of friend you’d be lucky to have by your side, so Quinn was jealous of those who _did_ have him by their side.

And yet, here he was, doing her hair while idly prattling about fashion and gossip and it seemed like maybe he was willing to be by her side too. The old, head Cheerio Quinn would have been suspicious; it seemed too much to hope for, too easy.

The new Quinn…she was starting to realize that people willing to be her friends without ulterior motives actually existed in this world. She thought that maybe Kurt was one of them.

“Quinn…Quinn!” She felt Kurt’s hand on her shoulders as he shook her gently. She blinked rapidly out of her thoughts and hummed in acknowledgement. “Have you been paying any attention to what I've been saying for the past five minutes? I had some spare time and I've been researching pregnancy and I found some interesting things: a lot of grotesque things, but some helpful information as well,” he said, and though Quinn couldn't see him, she could just imagine him wrinkling his nose and brushing his bangs into place.

“In any case, I’ll just print out the notes for you later since you seem to have no interest in having me explain them,” he said snarkily, but Quinn could tell he wasn't really upset. “More importantly, I've finished your hair and you absolutely must see it,” he said, guiding her up towards the mirror on Mercedes’ wall.

“Oh,” Quinn gasped, when she saw her hair. Kurt’s nimble fingers had managed to braid an intricate crown of her own hair atop her head.

“Every Princess needs a crown. So how’s that for _oh-so realistic_?” She met Kurt’s eyes in the mirror and he smirked.

Quinn felt her eyes well up; her father had always called her his little princess. She blinked back the tears forcefully and turned around to face Kurt, smiling tenderly. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

He beamed at that, eyes shining with all the innocence of a proud five year old.

Deciding that she would blame it on the hormones if asked, she wrapper her arms around him and sighed when he immediately returned it, stroking her hair softly.

Right then and there in that warm embrace – the kind that she hoped her daughter would be lucky enough to receive every single day of her life – Quinn Fabray fell just a little bit in love with Kurt Hummel.

Maybe acceptance really was that easy.

Maybe it was just Kurt.


	6. Interlude Part II - Lauren Zizes (Prom Queen)

“Knock, knock!”

Lauren shut her locker slowly, eyeing the pale fist as it retracted from knocking on her locker door before taking in the boy attached to it. “Hummel.”

He bounced excitedly, before shoving a large package in her hands. “Open it, open it!” he squealed. He had been obnoxiously happy the entire week; it was a new look on him. It suited him.

“It’s not chocolates is it?” she asked boredly, “Puckerman gave me some before and they sucked.”

“I assure you I have top-notch taste in chocolates as I do with, well, _everything_ , but no. Those are not chocolates. That package contains something much more useful than empty calories,” he said, hands clasped together.

Lauren frowned, but stopped herself from saying anything about the comment on chocolate. She…didn't hate Hummel. They had a lot in common, actually, both refusing to follow gender norms. He was badass enough to be himself without apologizing for it and she respected that in a person.

“Whatever. I won’t promise not to hate it,” she warned, before ripping open the box. “What?”

“I saw it on my biweekly shopping trip and immediately thought of you. It’s navy which, as I mentioned, is both chic and slimming.”

Lauren wasn't exactly the girliest girl in the world, but the fabric was shiny and she couldn't help but brush her fingers against it. It was ridiculously soft and she knew that it must be some quality material. Hummel didn't do bargain bins. “How much did this cost exactly?”

Kurt ignored the question and pulled the dress out of the box and out of her hands, unfolding it. “I’m pretty sure it’s the right size,” he murmured as he held it up against her, “And the shape will do wonderful things to your curves. Puck won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

“As if I’d let him,” Lauren scoffed, finding herself unwillingly mesmerized by the dress.

Allowing her to take the dress from his grasp, Kurt stepped back and flicked a stray strand of hair back. “Well, my work here is done and I really must be off; I have a kilt to sew,” he exclaimed before scurrying down the hall.

“Hummel! Wait a…second.”

Frowning, Lauren folded the dress carefully and put it back into the box.

Lauren Zises didn't do charity.

She opened her locker again and placed the box on the top shelf.

Still, the dress was amazing and had been picked out by Hummel himself.

Forget the bully whips, they were clearly just a prom campaign. The Zizes was on the job and she would make sure no one messed with Hummel and his boy toy at prom, even if she had to crack a few skulls.

She’d call that about even.


	7. Rachel Berry (New York)

Rachel was a girl that was very comfortable with sexuality, especially her own. That was why she wasn’t ashamed to admit that she had experienced a moment of attraction with every male within the Glee club. As there was nothing Rachel found more enticing than talent, and singing was the most important talent of all, many of these moments had taken place mid-song.

For Finn it had been the shining leading-male-potential he had displayed while singing the Danny Zuko part of ‘You’re the One that I Want’ that had caused Rachel to realize he held an inordinate amount of boyish charm.

Puck’s rendition of ‘Sweet Caroline’ had drawn Rachel’s attention to how nice his arms were as he held his guitar safely in their grip.

Singing with Jesse St. James in the library had resulted in an intense fascination with his winning smile.

Mr. Shuester’s duet with her had led Rachel to becoming captivated by his cute eyes.

Although unimpressed by the concept of irony being applied to Show Choir, Rachel couldn't deny she had given Artie an appreciative glance while practicing ‘Sit Down You’re Rocking the Boat’ with the club, realizing that he had lovely teeth.

Matt and Mike had evoked minor interest from Rachel for their respective bodies when they first really had a chance to show off their considerably dancing talent.

Sam’s duet with Quinn, while a little too sugary sweet for Rachel’s taste, had caused a small blip of attraction to his sunshine-blond hair.

As far as Rachel was concerned, showing an appreciation for the male form was perfectly healthy for a young woman of her age. Besides, with most of the Glee boys the attraction had been quickly noted and then easily dismissed as she had more valuable things to focus on, such as rearranging Les Mis into a one-woman show to be video-taped and uploaded onto her Myspace. As for Finn, for whom she had romantic feelings, after the initial attraction Rachel had been constantly aware of his good looks and charm, but had easily been able to push it to the back of her mind.

There was really only one male that didn't follow the pattern, and that was one Kurt Hummel.

To be perfectly honest, Kurt Hummel was not Rachel’s type at all. Rachel tended to favour the more traditionally masculine, while Kurt was quite androgynous in looks and behaviour. Certainly Rachel could objectively admit that Kurt was beautiful, but it didn't make sense for there to be any real attraction on her side – or his for that matter. Their first meeting had ended with Rachel filing Kurt strictly away under the ‘less-talented-and-not-worthy-of-attention’ category.

And yet one faithful football game changed that.

Seeing Kurt Hummel in bulky football padding had been both strange and alluring and had made Rachel pause to reevaluate the boy – a first for her. However, Rachel was a rational human being and although she had been caught off guard by the sudden attraction, she thought that it was logical enough. After all, Kurt could sing and dance and had a healthy interest in personal grooming. His hair was impeccable and he dressed himself well, in comparison to other teenage boys who didn’t seem to own anything other than baggy jeans and worn out jerseys. He also had a large amount of confidence and confidence was sexy, Rachel knew this. And perhaps there was a certain amount of talent that went into being able to kick a perfect field goal, though she had never considered such a thing before. Talent was talent.

Thus, Rachel overcame her surprise and was pleased that she had gotten the whole ‘initial attraction’ to Kurt out of the way so that she could ensure that her focus remained on becoming a star.

But then it happened again.

Rachel had been furious at Kurt’s attempt to steal a solo from her, but as soon as the first note had fallen from his lips she had been instantly enchanted. His voice was positively angelic and she once again felt the magnetic pull of attraction in her lower abdomen. In fact, she was stunned when he failed to reach the high F because by her musical calculation it had seemed well within his range. However, she kept this to herself because confusingly attractive or not, there was no way she would allow Kurt to take the solo from her. Still, she couldn't help but feel an unfamiliar sting of guilt at winning the competition when she glanced back and saw the tears pooling in his crystal-like eyes. She decided the least she could do was categorize him as ‘mildly talented’.

If the second instance of attraction had bemused her, the third had been shocking.

Kurt in a cheerleading uniform singing and dancing, – something Finn never managed to do simultaneously – face flushed attractively, chest heaving as he smiled in disbelief at the thunderous applause was enough to make Rachel herself flush and pant. On the one hand, cheerleading was hardly the epitome of traditional masculinity, but on the other hand, Kurt’s gorgeous tenor _was_. Rachel had been aware that Kurt could sing lower notes, since Mr. Shuester always forced him to do so in group numbers, but being able to hit the notes and sounding good while doing so were two very different things and, clearly, Kurt was capable of both. In light of this performance, Rachel bumped Kurt up from ‘mildly talented’ to just ‘talented’ and vowed to stop noticing him.

She broke this vow in a matter of two days during which Kurt managed to steal the show with only three lines in Finn’s arrangement of 'Like a Prayer' and became the first male to every land a spot in her ‘talented-and-potential-competition’ category. Meanwhile, she bit back any annoyance she might have felt at the peck on the cheek he had given Mercedes because she knew it didn't mean anything and she had no reason to care even if it did – she had no claim on him. But if she squeezed a little too tight when she put an arm around Mercedes, it was simply the excitement of the moment.

At that point, Rachel had chosen the mature route and come to terms with her slight crush on the other boy. By accepting these feelings rather than ignoring them, Rachel thought that she could simply live with the attraction as she did with Finn and the continuous renewal of attraction to Kurt Hummel would finally come to an end.

But it didn't. It kept happening again,

Kurt in overalls and kissing Brittany – Rachel stewing in her seat, worried for her gleemate despite her own problems, all the while glaring death at the blonde and mentally matching her animal-sweaters to his animal-trucker-hats.

And again,

Kurt lifting his leg over his head in their Gaga performance – Rachel missing a cue for the first time in her life, thoroughly distracted.

And again.

Kurt proving to have a miraculous range, singing the baritone opening of 'Give Up The Funk' – Rachel’s mind stopping for five whole minutes, not thinking about categorizing or competition at all.

Rachel was nothing if not, well, firstly an amazingly talented singer destined to land a starring role on Broadway, but also adaptable and professional. She learned to live with Kurt constantly one-upping himself and surprising her and generally being irresistibly tantalizing. All the while, she continued on her pathway to stardom with love interests coming and going. And although she had always claimed that they were unnecessary, she managed to make real friends to keep her company on this journey to success and to comfort her when her love interests disappointed her time and again. Well, really only one friend, but Rachel found that having Kurt Hummel as a best friend was better than having a million casual friends – not to mention that she also got Mercedes in a sort of two-for-one deal. Even if she continued to have the occasional fantasies about her best friend, greatly aided by the eyeful she had received when he had invited her to keep him company while he worked in his father’s garage, Rachel could never dream of not having Kurt right by her side.

So here she was, the past two years having led her to New York for Nationals, but her friendship with Kurt Hummel having led her to singing her heart out in the Gershwin Theatre. Thinking about the lengths he had gone to, to cheer her up and help her make up her mind – along with yet another instance of attraction when he stepped seamlessly into the role of bad-boy and picked the lock to the theatre’s doors – Rachel followed his advice and let herself honestly picture her future.

As the final notes of 'For Good' echoed within the theatre, their voices bouncing back at them, intertwined in breathtaking harmony much like their hands, Rachel opened her eyes and pulled Kurt into an emotional hug.

When she pictured her future she could see flashing lights and Broadway stages as clear as day.

However, above all the fame and glory and show-stealing solos, when she pictured her future…she saw Kurt Hummel standing right beside her, holding her hand every step of the way and pulling her along if she ever stumbled.

“Thank you, Kurt,” she whispered, a trembling smile overtaking her face.

She loved this boy.


	8. Santana Lopez (Sexy)

Santana didn't love boys because she had learned a long time ago that nothing good ever came from loving boys.

When she was young and stupid she had loved her dad, even though he was always working, because he still made sure to tuck her in every night when he got home after a late shift at the hospital. Then one day he just…stopped. He stopped tucking her in and he stopped hugging her goodnight and he stopped talking to her at all – _like what’s the point of having kids if you’re not going to bother to spend time with them, asshole?_ – and so she stopped loving him.

When she was a little older, but clearly just as stupid, she had loved Puck. He had kissed her softly behind the bleachers and held her hand throughout the football game and told her about how he was planning on being quarterback in high school. The next day he was mooning over Quinn _fucking_ Fabray and she had been relegated to booty calls, so she stopped loving him too.

At that point, she finally wised up and gave up on loving boys. That hadn't meant that she wanted to love girls, but somehow it ended up happening anyway. Brittany was just always _there_ , following Santana around like a puppy and giving her those sweet smiles and just, fuck, _looking_ at Santana like she was the messiah or, in Brittany’s case, a sparkly goat or something. So Santana fell in love, but this time she decided to keep her distance and protect her heart and so Brittany left her for fucking _Wheels_ and it still really fucking _hurt_ , so Santana wasn't going to love her anymore either.

Now Brittany was off with the cripple and where did that leave Santana? Apparently, crying her eyes out in the girls’ bathroom like a cliché and feeling more pathetic than _Berry_ , and let’s face it, _no one_ was more pathetic than Berry. It was enough to make Santana want to give up love completely – which had kind of been the plan until Brittany and the friends-with-benefits thing that turned into so much more. Everyone seemed to think that Santana was a bitch, but as far as she concerned, everyone else in the world was a bitch and people like her that got labeled like that were just misunderstood. Like, people said that life was a bitch, right? But it wasn't _life’s_ fault that you decided to cheat on your boyfriend with his best friend and you ended up pregnant – it was your lack of birth control’s fault. People also said that love was a bitch and you would expect Santana to agree with that, but she didn't. That was just a misunderstanding too. It wasn't _love’s_ fault that she was hurt and even though it stung ( _like a mother-_ ) that nobody every loved her _back_ , that still wasn't really anybody’s fault because Santana of all people could get that you couldn't control who you fall in love with.

You couldn't control who you fall out of love with either, but Santana could pretend.

What really hurt was the false hope. What really hurt was her dad having a birthday gift delivered every year without fail until the fifth grade, was Puck sending her sappy love texts every day that turned into sleazy sexts whenever he was horny, was Brittany linking pinkies with her down the hallway for three years straight and then hitching a ride on the cripple’s wheelchair. It was the fleeting hope that someone could actually love her that hurt the most when it was snatched away.

Santana scrubbed at her eyes roughly and then rolled out enough toilet paper to make a cheap-ass wedding dress out of. Blowing into some messily, she let it drop to the floor because, duh, _that’s what janitors were for_. She was sort of a lone wolf because she was the kind of awesome that didn't require an entourage and because all the other cows in this barnyard disguised as a school were incredibly jealous of her, but it was times like these that she almost wished she had a…friend – but that was probably the noxious bathroom fumes talking. She didn't even know why she was in the bathroom anyway. She could have just ditched and gone home if she wanted to be a sad, _sad_ loser and that would have had the double benefit of boxes and boxes of double-pleated facial tissue and privacy, so no one would catch her like this.

Okay, so maybe there was a reason she was in the bathroom during third period. Maybe she knew that a certain gay kid stopped by this bathroom every day at this time to primp himself in the mirror and add another ten pounds of product to his, admittedly, perfect hair – not that she was a _stalker_ or something, but before Glee club had turned her into such a softie, cornering the boy and exchanging verbal blows had been one of her favourite pastimes. Maybe she had hoped that he would see her here and offer her his fruity little handkerchief like he had that time Coach Sylvester had gone AWOL. Except that was just wishful thinking and more than a little delusional because gay kid, _Kurt_ , didn't even _go here_ anymore. She had reached a new level of lame, a level that was home to Shue’s hairdo and Finnocence’s sexual prowess.

It was just that…Kurt was…

Kurt was the kind of boy that held your hand and never let go. He was the kind of boy that bought kick ass presents and gave them to you in person with a hand-made and bedazzled-to-the-point-of-creepy card. He was the kind of boy that stuck by you no matter what, even if you neglected him for the blonde cheerleader that moved in with you, even if you called him unmentionable slurs in his own house, even if you replaced him with the straight-son alternative, even if you used to throw him in dumpsters, even if you made out with his love interest _twice_ when one of them was _actually supposed to be gay_ , even if you ignored the abusive bullying he went through _right in front of you_ …even if you were a caustic bitch and made unnecessary gay-jokes in what was supposed to be his safe haven.

He was too damn forgiving for his own good.

And, god, was he _hot_.

Santana was a self-proclaimed nympho or whatever weird lizard metaphor she had said to Brittany in the heat of the moment. It was kind of impossible for her to have pure, nonsexual feelings for anybody. Of course she had noticed that Kurt had an ass to _die for_ , and though he was nowhere near as cruel as he pretended to be, the bitch-glares he shot her after a particular vicious attack on his sexuality never failed to send a thrilling chill down her spine. He had a pretty face and pretty eyes and all that sappy crap, but more importantly he had a hot bod, was flexible as _fuck_ and had a voice that she bet would sound _delicious_ during some sexy times.

So, yes, Santana had fantasized about the fruit cup because he was hot as hell. Unfortunately, he was also so flamingly gay that she regularly felt the need to douse him with a fire extinguisher (which doubled as one of her top ten fantasies).

Kurt was different from her dad and Puck and he was probably the only boy she would ever truly love. And she wasn’t going to mess it up this time by getting too close. This time she would stick to appreciating from afar and continue to sling rude comments at him, all the while anticipating whatever icy look or sharp retort he would fire back.

Because Kurt was also different from her dad and Puck, and even Brittany in that, right from the start, there was never any chance that he would love her back.

It was better this way.


	9. Glee Girls (New York/Pre-Season Three)

Azimio flinched as his back hit the lockers, the rest of the football team cowering beside him. He clenched his fist, but knew better than to do anything. Even Figgins wouldn't let it go if he attacked a bunch of _girls_.

“So here’s how it’s going to work,” Lauren said, cracking her knuckled loudly and then moving onto her neck muscles.

“You meat heads are going to leave my boy the hell alone,” said Mercedes, one hand on her hip while she whipped the other one around angrily.

Santana crossed her arms and put on her best bitch face. “Or we’ll be forced to go all Lima Heights on your asses,” she sneered.

“We’re not kidding around,” Quinn threatened, stance fierce and powerful.

“I've already got a bunch of cameras rigged around the school for proof if you step out of line,” Lauren added.

“If you so much as lay a finger on Kurt I will get my gay Dads to use that video footage to sue you for everything you’re worth and then some,” said Rachel, voice shrill and upset.

“And between me, Brit and Quinn, we've got enough dirt on all of you to buy your silence,” Santana said, smirking lewdly.

Quinn nodded. “We may not be on the Cheerios anymore, but Coach Sylvester has given us her full support in this matter.”

“Coach Bieste also said she’ll kick anyone who’s caught bullying off the team,” said Tina.

“There’s a promising group of freshman coming in next year, so she isn't worried about numbers or talent,” Rachel added.

The seven girls glared down the burly footballers who, despite their best efforts, were intimidated.

Twirling her hair cutely around her finger, Brittany smiled brightly. “So don’t hurt our baby gay anymore, okay?” she chirped.

There was complete silence, no one moved an inch.

Santana glared furiously, “She said, ‘Okay?’”

Every single football player nodded.

Lauren tapped her foot impatiently. “Leave. Now.”

They left.

Quickly.

“See Rachel,” Quinn said lightly, “This is what we should have done from the beginning. Leaving it to the boys was messy and unnecessarily violent. Brains beat brawn.”

As Rachel bristled and started in on a long, wordy rant, Mercedes just rolled her eyes along in time with Tina, turning to see Brittany linking pinkies with Santana and Lauren snacking on some kind of candy. They were a damn crazy group, all different with clashing personalities. But between the seven of them they had at least two things in common.

The first was obvious: Glee.

The second was not so obvious, but was an undeniable truth that had never even needed to be confirmed in words.

Every single one of them loved Kurt Hummel and would do anything to protect him.

For a lot of them, loving Kurt Hummel was the most selfless thing they had ever done.

Santana scoffed loudly, breaking up the verbal warfare going on between Rachel and Quinn. “You’re both wrong. Forget brains and brawn and whatever intensely planned legal action Berry was talking about; blackmail and subterfuge pwn everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> Girls are in order that I believe Kurt befriended them. Interludes are chronologically ordered. Brackets are the time-frame of the drabble.


End file.
